Unto a fly transformed from human kind,
   Methought I ranged on a sunshine day, 
When, for to ease my sad afflicted mind, 
   Upon my mistress’ robe I ‘gan to play.
At length I mounted up at her dainty breast 
From whence I sought my solace and my rest.

Yet ,not content with these aspiring toys, 
   Changing my seat into her curlèd hair, 
By seeking to increase my new-found joys,
   I turned my sweet applause to sudden fear,
For, chancing on her eyes of flame and fire, 
I burnt my wings whereby I did aspire. 

Thus falling to the ground in my decay, 
   With mournful buzzings craving her relief, 
Methought she mourned with ruth my heavy lay,
  And crushed me with her foot to end my grief, 
And said; Lo, where the silly wretch doth lie,
Whose end was such because he flew so high.